


Rough Night

by wrenegade_writes



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/F, Fem!Steve, Fem!Tony, No Name Changes, Oh also, basically just soft f/f stevetony bc I wanted it, touch starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 23:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20266144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrenegade_writes/pseuds/wrenegade_writes
Summary: Tony never sleeps. She knows all the reasons—nightmares, PTSD, her brain running too quickly to power down. But this night, this night is different, and she can’t figure out why.All she wants is Steve.





	Rough Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is so soft, guys. Like so soft and sweet and totally self-indulgent. Mostly bc Tony is me. Anyway. Enjoy!

Tony pulls her blankets more tightly around her, shivering a little in a room that should’ve been the perfect temperature. She can’t sleep. She can barely breathe. Something was wrong.

Something was _wrong_, there was a gaping black hole in her chest that had nothing to do with the reactor and she was cold and hot at once and she wanted to cry and she wanted Steve.

Tony doesn’t realize she’s crying—no, gasping, like a dying thing, heaving breathy sobs into her sheets—until Jarvis speaks up.

_“Miss, might I suggest I contact Captain Rogers? You are in distress and I believe she can help.”_

Normally, Tony would say no, would be disgusted by the idea of Steve seeing her like this. But tonight....she wants Steve so _badly_.

Tony couldn’t answer Jarvis if she wanted to. The words won’t come, lying dormant in her stomach, and she can’t quite convince herself it’s safe to speak.

Fuck. She hates this.

A moment later, Jarvis very quietly says “_Captain Rogers is on her way, Miss_.”

Tony’s chest heaves with bittersweet relief. Steve. Steve’s coming for her, like she always does. Tony likes being able to take care of herself, and she does, but...it’s nice. To have Steve.

She has approximately ten seconds to pull herself together. Steve doesn’t kid around when Tony is involved.

She can’t move.

She wishes, inside the screaming, bloody cacophony in her head, that she were less pathetic.

Steve opens the door. Freezes. Stares.

Tony knows what she looks like. Dried salt on her cheeks, puffy red eyes ringed black with sleepless nights; a tiny, desperate thing staring at Steve.

“Oh, _Tony_,” Steve murmurs, reaching the edge of the bed in an instant.

She kneels to look Tony in the eyes, carefully not touching her. Tony stares at the bedsheets and Steve stares at Tony, searching. Cataloging her curled up body and fists tucked under her chin, childlike.

“Can you speak?” Steve asks, gently, and Tony curls in on herself just a little bit more, which is all the answer Steve needs.

She hates this.

“Okay,” Steve says, “is it alright if I touch you?”

And Tony _wants_. Steve is big and warm and soft and shielding and safe. Tony _aches_ for her.

She manages a tiny nod, and Steve brushes Tony’s hair back from her face, soothing, and it’s so good but not enough.

“This good?” Steve asks.

Tony can’t answer. Fuck. It’s a trick question, it’s a trap, it is good but it’s also not good enough, what does she say? If she says yes Steve might not come any closer, if she says no Steve might back off completely, might leave her, fuck fuck _fuck_ she can’t answer, she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know-

She doesn’t realize she’s gasping soft sobs again until Steve’s voice registers, just this side of panicked.

“-ony? Tony, it’s alright, darling, I promise, I know, it’s okay, you’re doing so well, breathe for me, okay? Breathe, darling.”

Tony does, slowly. She does this, sometimes—gets too wrapped up in her own head with double meanings and worst-case scenarios. It’s awful.

“Let me try again. Are you okay with me just doing this?” Steve asks, infinitely gentle.

If Tony wasn’t so pathetically grateful for the kindness, she would resent it. As it is, she just shakes her head.

“Do you want more?”

Tony nods and promptly tries to sink directly into the depths of the earth. Steve pulls the blankets back a bit with a soft smile.

“None of that, now,” she murmurs, “it’s alright, you hear me? You’re doing just fine.”

Tony can feel the pressure building behind her eyes and nods quickly, before the tears come. Steve climbs over and around her, settling in a firm warm line all along Tony’s back. She rubs one thumb in gentle circles on Tony’s shoulder and Tony _melts_.

“Do you want me to just keep doing this?” Steve whispers into the dark, and Tony hesitates. Everything still feels weighted and dangerous, but a quick breath in and she turns over, facing Steve, burying her face in her chest.

Several long, long moments pass like that, Tony buried in Steve in the dark and the quiet.

“I don’t know what’s _wrong_ with me,” Tony whispers at last, hoarse.

“_Nothing_ is wrong with you,” Steve whispers vehemently. “You’re only human.”

It’s the exact wrong thing to say. Tony is only human, only a soft and fragile thing outside the suit. She’s got none of Steve’s strength or Nat’s training, none of Clint’s marksmanship or Thor’s magic. She’s smart, sure, but there’s nothing special about some math and a bit of metalworking. She’s only human, only weak, only only _only_.

“You’re taking that the wrong way, aren’t you,” Steve sighed. It wasn’t a question, so Tony didn’t answer.

“I meant you don’t have to be fine all the time, and you can’t always control when you need help. Okay? I’ll always be here if you need me. No one’s perfect.”

“You’re perfect,” Tony murmured. “Isn’t....isn’t that the point?”

Steve hummed. “Perfect is relative. I was made to be the vision of a bunch of men in the 40s. Look at me now, dating a gal—do you think they wanted a queer Captain America? And trust me, I’m smart enough to get by, but the things you can do, Tones? They’re amazing. And I’m impulsive, stubborn, close-minded at times. I’m strong, darling, but that’s about it. I’m nowhere near perfect.”

Tony pushed herself up a little bit, ready to leap to Steve’s defense, but Steve pressed her gently back down. “Hush. I know you want to prove me wrong, but shush for just a minute. I’m not puttin’ myself down here, just statin’ facts. You are amazing, Tony Stark. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re the weakest on the team just because you’re only human outside the suit. You were only human in Afghanistan, and look what you made from that.”

Steve paused, tracing a finger over the arc reactor. “You’re the Iron Woman, and unlike the rest of us who owe our powers to fate or science or mentors, Iron Woman is just you. Nothing and no one else. That’s so amazing, Tony, you have no idea.”

Tony couldn’t speak, but this time it wasn’t out of fear but awe. Here was Steve, Captain America, her idol since practically birth, telling her she was amazing. God.

“I know,” Steve whispered at last. “It’s a lot to spring on you like this. Go to sleep, darling. How long has it been since you slept?”

Tony squirmed. “Yesterday?”

Steve looked unimpressed. “Properly. Eight hours at least, in your own bed, at night, the whole nine yards.”

“Um,” Tony said, glancing up at Steve, and that was answer enough. She really had no idea.

“Sleep now, honey. I’ll be here when you wake up, promise.”

Tony snuggled in a little closer against Steve’s chest and finally, finally slept.

~~~~

Tony woke up to sunlight filtering gently in and Jarvis’ voice informing her of the day, the weather, the place. And Steve, next to her, softly sleep-rumpled and still with an arm flung loosely over her waist.

And then the previous night’s memories come flooding back in.

Fuck.

She’d had Jarvis wake Steve, dragged her poor girlfriend down to her room for a hug because she was that fucking pathetic, Jesus Christ. She’d really made Steve tell her how amazing and perfect she was, had cried into her chest like a helpless damsel in distress, _fucking hell_, she deserved to be thrown off the roof without a suit on.

“Tones?”

Tony winced. Steve seemed to have a sixth sense for knowing when Tony was awake, and also for knowing when she was beating herself up inside. But that didn’t mean Tony couldn’t try to throw her off the scent. She didn’t need Steve anymore, she’d had her little encouraging speech and her comfort for the next couple of weeks. She’d be fine.

“Yeah, Cap?”

She could hear the frown in Steve’s voice when she said, “You never call me that anymore. Unless you’re on the field or trying to pretend you’re fine when you’re not. What’s wrong?”

Fuck. Mistake.

“Just sorry I dragged you out of bed last night for this mess,” Tony tried again for flippancy.

“This mess? ‘Scuse me, that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about. She’s a mess, sure, but she’s my mess, and I’d cross the whole world for her if she needed me.”

God. There Steve went again, being all endearing and poetic and supportive and shit.

“Oh,” Tony said. What else was she supposed to say, after Steve did things like that?

“Hey, so, d’you want to tell me what was going on last night? Jarvis didn’t say much.”

Tony bit her lip. “It’s, uh, well, it’s officially called touch starvation? Which is self explanatory, I guess.”

Steve tilted her head. “Touch starvation?”

“Yeah, um, I don’t really get, ah, touched a whole lot,” Tony said quietly. “After, after Afghanistan, I didn’t want anyone to. You know.”

“I know,” Steve whispered.

“Yeah. And then, Pepper, but she doesn’t...she couldn’t handle it, the superhero thing, you know? Which I get, obviously, but. I haven’t really had anyone, since Pepper.”

“Tony,” Steve said. “You and Pepper broke up over a year ago.”

“I know,” Tony whispered. “And, and this isn’t like, a failing on your part Steve, I swear, it’s just-“

“Touch is a human need, Tony,” Steve said gently. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Oh,” Tony breathed. “Then, can we just, just stay like this? For, for a little while?”

“Course we can, hon. You’ve done an awful lot of emoting in the last couple of hours, you deserve a nap,” Steve said, with a small, teasing smile.

Tony smiled back and snuggled in a little closer. “You’re damn right I do.”

And if Steve starts pulling her in for hugs more often than before, or finding every excuse to touch her throughout the day, well, Tony can’t complain.

**Author's Note:**

> See, I told you. Soft. Also, I am terrible at keeping consistent tenses, so lmk if you see anything messed up. And of course, comments and kudos are my lifeblood and I love to get them!!


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